I’ve started to walk on the beach, or at least try to walk on the beach. It is very easy to get side tracked when you are on a mission with a plan. Today I decided no one was going to send me veering off my path, so when I approached the beach I snuck along the edge for a while so that my friend that works at one of the restaurants didn’t see me because that usually results in me sitting down and having a fruit drink and perhaps him introducing me to some more of his friends which is all great but I end up there until sundown. As I’m walking on the beach that is so long that you cannot see the end I am always am reminded of how incredibly blessed I am to be able to be here. I am literally living in my dreams. Walking along the ocean is also a reminder to me of how big God is. It is amazing to me to hear the thundering roll of the waves coming in and suddenly they roll over as if unfolding and slowly curl in to shore and gently lap up against my feet. They sound so powerful and scary at first but as they get closer they become so gentle. Kind of like God, until you get close and built a relationship with Him he can also appear scary and perhaps intimidating. Once you get close to him you will find his ever loving arms always open to you, and you will feel his gentle love always. I walk for an hour and the only people I encounter are two local surfers riding the waves and one lone gentleman walking his dog and the guy that rents out his horses was herding them home, 6 of them altogether. Out on the ocean I see a big tanker anchored, possibly waiting for his turn to dock....apparently there’re only so many ships allowed in at a time. I also see a little fishing boat, this is my favourite, with one lone fisherman casting out and hauling in a net. I love watching these boats; they seem so peaceful out there on the big ocean. I admire these fishermen; it seems like such a noble profession. As I come off the beach and head home I am just in awe over how different and simple life is here. I see hammocks hanging from trees and roof over hangs and they actually have people in them, on almost every front step there is someone either just sitting or someone bashing coconuts or a fisherman mending his nets (a common sight) someone scrubbing clothes or kids running around. People use their homes for sleeping and storing their stuff not for living in, for the most part life happens outside. If you live like this you really don’t need a very big house at all. As I continue on home I pass a baseball game, not a little league game, just some kids on an open lot with bases marked with pieces of trash and rocks, except for home plate, it’s so worn from sliding in it doesn’t need a marker. There are no uniforms, no adults standing around with clip boards and whistles, no bleachers and no hotdog stand....although there is a chicken stand just up the street. Judging from the boyish banter and hooting and hollerin it looks like fun is being had by all. As I get to the chicken stand I find a volleyball game going on right beside it with grown men and perhaps a few teenagers also hooting and hollerin and having a blast, parked on the side of the street are a row of motos and bicycles and one lone, very bored looking horse tethered to a pole. As I walk on I pass people coming home from work, (it must be about 4:00 ) fisherman carrying buckets, people pushing wheel barrows, men on bikes with spades and shovels and ladies carrying backpacks...possibly beach vendors. Young men with their black cases that they sell jewellery and watches and you name it out of on the beach. I see the hotdog stand in front of the Big City Deli being set up and across the road the taco stand that I had very good papa locos at a few nights ago is also in full swing with a small crowd gathering in front of it. I pass a stand that is just closing that I had not seem before (I do miss some things) I ask her what her hours are and was told they are only open during the day, she tells me they do still have tamales left over if I want, I decline as I already have a tamale guy....he comes by my house every morning and I don’t want to cheat on him. (it`s a small place, he will find out). I keep on my way home and pass the peanut stand, I search my pockets, I have no change....too bad, I love fresh roasted peanuts and they roast them right there. It took me a while to figure out what the funny looking contraption was, it`s a peanut roaster. I continue limping on....I`m wearing my thongs again.
Then I pass the cutest little Hansel and Gretel house, it is so tiny but so perfect and I can totally see me retiring in a little house like that (I`ll take a picture some day for you) this house looks very out of place as it is completely finished and very neatly painted and obviously loved and adored by it`s owners. The little front porch is just dreamy. I must get myself invited into this house sometime. The lady that sells fresh coconut cookies greets me and I stop to say the usual Buenas tardes, I don`t buy a coconut cookie because I have no change and although I really really love coconut I find them a bit too sweet for me, I wonder if I can ask her to make some for me with less sugar. Maybe I`ll just make my own, there`s an idea. I pass by the little confectionary store that I can sometimes buy a great big Marlin sandwich for 7 pesos at. On the front porch there are the usual 5 or 6 men playing Dominoes, they always seem to be here at about this time.
I get home just as the sky is turning pink, it`s sundown, I debate if I want to walk just a little further so that I can see the sun set over the ocean but I decide that since I don`t have my camera I better not, I would be so disappointed if it turned out to be a magnificent sunset and me with out my camera so I just head on upstairs to my little loft. This little place is really starting to feel like home when I walk through the door. I really didn`t think I would feel so at home here, I knew I would feel at home here in Mexico but I didn`t think that this house would ever feel as homey as my house at home does. I always though that my house at home was special in a way that it made me feel very comfortable and safe and I always loved going home to it, even if I was only coming home from work. I somehow thought that if I moved I would never have that comfortable feeling again but I guess I was wrong. I already love coming home to this house and I`ve only been here 2 months. My things aren’t even in here, all my wonderful things that I`ve collected over the years that I felt I had to have in order to make my house a home, they`re not here and yet I feel perfectly at home... Interesting.
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